Sons of Troy
by Trojan Prince
Summary: What would happen if Hector had won that fateful duel and killed Achilles? How would the Trojan War have ended
1. Sons of Troy

**Sons of Troy**

**Author's note **

This story is about how the war might have turned out if Hector had won the Legendary duel with Achilles in front of the walls of Troy. This is my first fanfiction that I have uploaded yet, so be gentle with any reviews you send in, but still tell me what I need to work on, cheers

**Chapter 1**

"HECTOR!"

The cry echoed across the golden walls of Troy, sweeping over the battlements, the soldiers and the Trojan nobles standing in the royal viewing box. The call slowly faded into the air around the city, but the challenge it had raised, nor the fear that now seeped into a number of the Trojans atop the walls, did not.

Hector, Crown Prince of Troy and General of all her armies stood watching the lone Greek soldier who now stood waiting outside the gate, standing by the chariot he had arrived in. As the prince watched the Greek bellowed out again "HECTOR!" The figure was too small to see who it was but Hector did not need the oracle of Delphi to tell him who it was that was yelling his name. It was Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis, commander of the Myrmidons, the greatest warriors in the World.

When Odysseus, King of Ithaca, had told Hector that the young Greek warrior he had killed on the Trojan beach yesterday was Achilles' cousin, Hector had known that this would come. When he had met Achilles in the Temple of Apollo on the first day of battle of this accursed war, he had learned much of the Greek Champion. He had learned that Achilles was ruthless in his slaughter of the unarmed priests. The Achilles was vain and arrogant beyond measure in the way he regarded the Trojan Prince and the sneer with which he had answered Hector's mention of the now widowed wives at Troy. First and Foremost he had learned that Achilles (unlike himself) didn't fight for his country, he fought for himself and for glory when he spoke of his soon to be immortal name. But one thing of virtue he had learned was that Achilles cared and loved his men and that is men in return loved him. To kill his cousin, one to young by rights to be in a battle wouldn't go unanswered.

Hector heaved a sigh of submission and turned to his father, Priam High King of Troy and knelt down before him. "Father, forgive me for any offense's, I have served you as best I could". Priam kissed his son's forehead and gave his blessing to him for the battle head. "May the Gods be with you" Priam said in a voice that to any other might have seemed indifferent

To what was going on in the world right now. Some of the nobles were looking at the king out of the corners of their eyes with a expression of silent reproach at what they took to be their King sending his son and heir to die without a second thought. But Hector knew otherwise. Anyone who didn't know the king as well as his sons wouldn't have seen it. But Hector heard the subtle note of love and pride with which Priam regarded his son before him. As Hector rose to go his father grasped at his arm and stood up "Hector, no father ever had a better son".

Hector took a moment to compose himself after that. He turned to Locas General of Troy and one of his closest companions on the battlefield. "Apollo guard you my Prince" Locas said with respect. Hector grasped his forearm in a show of mutual respect.

Hector turned then to his younger brother Paris. Hector, while he had agreed to defend his brother in the war he had started with Greece. Whenever he looked at the dead or the wounded on the battlefield, Or heard the cries of widowed wives and orphaned children in the night, he couldn't help being angry with his brother for causing this war for a woman. Now however all he felt was love for his reckless little brother and sadness at the thought that this would be the last time they are together.

"You're the best man I know" Paris whispered with a chocking voice (Hector could tell he was fighting tears). Hector embraced his brother and when they drew apart hector replied "you're a prince of Troy; I know you will make me proud".

Hector kissed his brother's forehead and left without letting Paris reply. Hector didn't want this to be more difficult than it already was for his family.

Hector turned out of the doorway leading to the staircase he had just descended and moved toward the gateway. Andromache his beloved wife rose to meet him, carrying their infant son Astyanax in her arms.

Hector had seen what might happen if he died. Without him the Trojan Army would be leaderless and the people would be devastated. He didn't honestly know if the city would stand. If the Greeks got inside the walls it was over. All the men would be killed, children would be slaughtered, and the women would be raped and taken as slaves, and Hector wouldn't see that happen to his family. Priam and Paris already knew the secret way out of the city but he had shown his wife last night along with his fears and warnings. Embracing his wife he whispered "You remember what I told you?".

"You don't have to go, you don-" Hector interrupted "you remember what I told you?". When she nodded slowly he kissed her and his son and walked past, hearing his son's crying following him as he went.

Hector stood before the city gates, waiting for the soldiers to finish unbarricading it. As he waited he felt eyes upon him from the back. Turning he saw Helen standing on the deserted street. Many in troy blamed Helen for causing the war, and while Hector did as well to start with, when Paris first revealed her to him at sea, he had come to think differently. Agamemnon wanted Troy for power and riches not his brother's wife, Helen had just been the excuse he needed to declare it. Helen looked at Hector in sadness and lowered he head as if in mourning, which (Hector figured) was probably fitting.

Hector picked up his spear and shield, donned his helmet and turned to face the city gates. It was not fear that gripped him, only a heightened sense of things. His wife Andromache had told him he didn't have to go, but hector knew it didn't matter. Achilles would stay outside the walls of Troy all day, and the next day, and every day until the end of the war, if not the end of his life. Hector heard that in the Cry that once again washed over the walls, Achilles would never rest until he had killed Hector and avenged Patroclus. Whatever feelings Achilles possessed besides his hunt for glory, friendship, loyalty, laughter, maybe even love, it didn't matter. Right now those feelings were dead, only vengeance had a place in him now. If the Gods willed that Hector fight Achilles then so be it, Always the warrior to the end Hector would rather meet his fate head on with his sword drawn, then hideaway in Troy a moment longer. The gate opened, and Hector stepped out.

Hector surveyed the Greek in front of him, Achilles was his height and equally muscular. But the mocking laugh that had been on his face last time they met was gone, to be replaced by a hardened look that hector knew just masked the pain and rage he was feeling beneath the surface

"I have seen this moment in my dreams; I will make a pact with you. With the gods as our witnesses, let us pledge that the winner will allow the loser funeral rituals" said Hector.

"There are no pacts between lions and men" Achilles snarled. He tossed his helmet away across the sandy floor and faced the Prince. "Now you know who you're fighting".

Hector removed his helmet and raised his shield. He turned back to face Achilles defiance etched into his face. "I thought it was you I was fighting yesterday, and I wish it had been you". (This was true, when hector pulled of the helmet and looked into the tear stained years of the dying boy, he felt revolted with himself. For the ever honourable Hector, to kill one so young, even in war was unforgivable. If it had been Achilles he had killed before the combined Greek and Trojan Armies, before his beloved Myrmidons, Hector would have looked at his corpse and smiled. But the Fates decreed otherwise) "but I gave the boy the honour he deserved".

"You gave him the honour of your sword" Achilles spat back "You won't have eyes tonight; you won't have ears or a tongue. You will wander the underworld blind, deaf and dumb and all the dead will know, this is Hector, the fool who thought he killed Achilles"

Achilles raised his spear and advanced on the Prince. And Hector feeling disgusted with the Greek's words, and the vainglories warrior himself. Picked up his spear, entrusted his fate to the will of the gods and stepped out to meet the Greek Champion.


	2. Battle of Champions

**Chapter 2**

Hector moved in swiftly, changing his weight from foot to foot to keep his balance and speed, he could see Achilles doing the same. He felt that this was what his entire life had been living up to at this moment, all his training and experience, every man he had sent across the river Styx was a preparation for this battle with the ultimate foe. Then he couldn't think anymore, all of his concentration, every fibre of his being was being used to remain alive.

Achilles sent his spear straight at Hectors chest aiming to drive it into his heart. Hector leaned his body to the left and dodged the blow. Achilles continued his attack by slashing his shield across the Trojan's flank, but Hector raised his own shield above his face to turn the blow aside. Both warriors ran in a semi circle to put some breathing space between each other.

Achilles charged at Hector and leaped into the air with his spear poised, trying to bring it over the prince's shield and into his head, But Hector raised his shield and deflected the blow. The Force of it caused hector to take a number of steps back while Achilles landed and continued striding at his foe.

Hector regained his balance and just in time to divert Achilles spear into the ground with his shield. Achilles pulled his spear out snarling like a wild beast and swung it at Hector repeatedly but Hector managed to block every attack. Hector in a flash of anger, went on the offensive. He swung his spear in a savage arc intending to slash across Achilles chest armour and into his flesh below.

But Achilles threw his upper body back and the spear passed over him harmlessly. Achilles recovered himself and stabbed at Hector with his spear but Hector dodged and aimed his spear point at the side of Achilles face. Achilles ducked beneath the strike and aimed his own spear at Hector's throat.

Hector leaned back and turned the spear aside. Achilles attacked again with a direct stab at Hectors chest, but Hector trapped the Greek's spear between his own and his side. Achilles surprised the Trojan by bring his shield around in a brutal swing with a force to take the prince's head off his shoulder's. Hector ducked just in time, he felt the shield skim over the top of his head. The feeling of his hand being wrenched about and a sound of splintering wood gave realisation to the fact that his own spear had been shattered in half and his main weapon was now a useless shaft of wood. Achilles followed up by slamming his shield into Hector's sending the Trojan prince reeling back.

Hector turned back to face Achilles, Hector had been under no illusion that he would win the fight when he stepped out of Troy, but he had determined to go down with a fight and to do as much harm to the murdering barbarian who stood before him. Achilles would kill unarmed men women and children to gain the fame and glory he craved so much. He had proven that with the killing of Apollo's priest's, and when Briseis had not been found or exchanged for ransom, he could only assume she had been killed by Achilles or his men, after gods know what else. As far as Hector saw, for all Achilles god like skill, aside from his men and cousin, he cared for nothing but his own reflection in the glass. These thought's filled Hector with fresh resolve. Casting aside his useless spear he waited for the next attack. Achilles attacked with his spear three times, each time Hector blocked it with his shield, on the third he brought his knee down on the spear point and snapped it off. Hector drew his sword quickly and attempted to cut Achilles throat as he had with Patroclus.

Achilles whipped his head back just in time to avoid having the breath cut out of him. Dodging Hector's next two attack's and whipped out his own sword. Swords and shield's clashed and grated against each other as both warriors attempted to smash through the other's defences and strike a killing blow to their enemy. Achilles then thrust his sword point directly into Hector's shield, pushing the prince back. Hector rallied himself for a new attack, smashing his shield into Achilles outstretched sword, knocking it aside. Achilles blocked the Trojan's flurry of attacks, eventually managing to bring his forearm smashing into Hector's face.

Hector reeled back seeing nothing but stars for a brief moment, when he regained his senses which only took a second he slashed at Achilles on both flanks, but Achilles weaved out of the way each time and leaping around Hector he sent his sword smashing into Hector's shield, sending him staggering back yet again. Hector was desperate, had attacked with more skill and precision then he had ever had to use against an opponent before, against any other foe, even the giant Ajax, the battle would be over. But every attack the Trojan champion had thrown at Achilles had been turned aside, he had come close to ending the Greek's life on a few occasion's but each time Achilles had either blocked or moved out of the way just in time. He could tell Achilles was cutting lose for possibly the first time in this life, but he was only mildly out of breath.

Hector fought off those doubts, as he had told Paris in training "The second you think you opponent is invincible, he is invincible", and he leaped at Achilles again. The two exchanged blows for a time, neither seeming to gain an advantage. Then Hector forced Achilles of balance, Achilles stumbled backwards, his arms flailing to regain his footing. Hector pressed his advantage slashing at Achilles now unprotected chest. There was grating sound of metal on metal and Achilles stared down at his chest in surprise. A small gash now lay in his armour. Achilles was losing his Patience, he had never come close to being scratched by an enemy, and the pain he felt meant the sword tip had just bit through and caught his flesh. He began to wonder if he had underestimated the Trojan prince, he knew his reputation as a warrior as a rival to his own, but this had been the case with many enemies, and they had all fallen to his blade, most on the first blow.

His train of thought was shattered as Hector charged at him, and drove at him in an attempt to drive it clean through Achilles gut. However Achilles caught the blow in his side between his shield arm and torso. Lifting his shield still pinning Hector's sword arm Achilles tried to stab over the shield, but Hector blocked it with his own shield. Achilles then kicked out at Hector's shield, causing him to stubble backwards, Hector tripped on a stone and crashed to the ground.

Hector waited for the sword to be stabbed or slashed through him, Achilles could have killed him then and there, but it didn't come. "Get up Prince of Troy, get up, I won't let a stone take my glory!" Achilles said casting his own shield aside.

Hector picked up his fallen spear head in his now free shield hand, and turned to carry on the fight. Hector with his sword in one hand and his spear in the other let lose his most fierce barrage of attacks on Achilles, but to no avail, Achilles responded in kind but when they separated again they were both undamaged.

Hector was on the verge of exhaustion, sweat ran down his face and his lungs were breathing deeply. He realised he didn't have a lot of fight left to give. If the fight didn't end soon one way or another he would fall to his knees from tiredness, and he would be done for. Achilles was also tiring from the duel; sweat glistened on his face and limbs and his own breathing was deep as well. Hector prepared for a final assault, charging he lashed out savagely with both weapons in wild swings. Achilles quickly gave ground, trying hard to defend against all the attacks sent at him, eventually he simply lashed out with his free had and pushed weakened Hector back.

Hector charged once more and slashed at Achilles head with his spear, to his surprise Achilles simply grabbed the spear and pulled it out of Hector's hand. Hector lashed out with his sword put Achilles ducked, spun around and aimed the spear at Hector's shoulder in an attack to cripple him and win the fight.

Hector saw the Greek's intention and immediately knew he could never get his sword up to block it in time, Hector did something he had never done before to an enemy of Troy. He fell to his knees and the spear point flew just clear of his head. Achilles though surprised brought his sword down at the prince with a snarl etched on his face, as far as he was concerned this duel had gone on far too long, it was time to end it. Hector sensing rather than seeing the blade coming at him, dived forward in a roll. As he did so he cut out with his sword and felt it make contact with the Greek's body, when he regained his footing he saw (to his supreme satisfaction) that blood dripped from his sword and he saw that he had gashed the back of Achilles left foot.

Achilles spun round to face the Trojan prince with his sword up but his face was pale, both Hector realised from blood loss from the wound and from horror, as he realised what the prince had done. With a small stumble he charged at Hector, the prince turned aside the blow and grapping Achilles sword hand knocked the blade from his suddenly nerveless hands. Hector raised his sword up again, half blinded by the sun and the sweat that ran down his face he turned to face the blur that Achilles had become, he drew his sword back. And with that, no pausing to pick his moment, no memorable last words, he put his trust in the Gods and drove it forward in a savage motion. And by luck or fate, ran it clean through Achilles chest centre, clean through his rumoured to be invincible heart.


	3. Fates Decided

**Chapter 3**

**Achilles eyes and mouth popped wide with shock, blood gushed out of his mouth as he slowly sank to his knees. His expression was comical, but Hector was in no mood to laugh. There was no recovery from a strike like that, Achilles, son of Peleus, the greatest warrior in the mortal world, was dying from a sword embedded deep in his chest.**

**Hector whirled round and snatched up Achilles fallen sword. He got in a defensive position, Achilles may have been done for, but he could still take Hector with him, the blade was stopping the flow of blood from his heart, he could go on for a minute or two like this.**

**Hector could still not believe it, he had won, he had been prepared to stand before Hades and face his judgement. It felt strangely unnatural that he should be the one alive. In that one moment time seemed to freeze, the sounds of the wind and the birds fell silent, and the two warriors seemed fixed into position, as if they had been transformed into the world's most life like mural.**

**Then Achilles fell to his left, he crashed onto his side and rolled on to his back, gasping in pain as the sword lodged in his chest was wrenched around in his ribcage. At this the walls of Troy seemed to explode with the power of Boreas himself.**

**Led by Paris, every Trojan on the walls were jumping up and down in triumph, all of them cheering, screaming, stamping their feet and brandishing their weapons in honour of their victorious prince.**

**Hector turned away from the noise to look down at Achilles. The Greek hero was still very much alive, his eyes shone with shock and confusion, as if his mind couldn't take in what had happened in the last few minutes. Hector (still keeping Achilles sword aimed at its master's throat) knelt down beside his fallen enemy. Taking hold of the handle of his own sword, he grasped it firmly and with a grunt of effort, drew it out of Achilles chest. Blood dripped heavily from the blade as Hector held it up, torrents more followed the blade out of the wound. Without the sword stopping the blood, it flowed freely from Achilles chest as it fell up and down with his shallow breathing.**

**Hector tossed Achilles sword across the sand, far out of reach, now using his own to guard the Greek. Achilles with a seemingly tremendous effort then lifted his head to face Hector. Hector watched as the emotions flashed through the eyes. Shock, Anger, Hate, Calm, Respect, all these feelings were racing through Achilles as the dying Greek tried to find the appropriate one for this moment. **

**Achilles then relaxed, Hector was under the impression he had died. But then Achilles left hand reached out and grapped Hector's forearm suddenly. Hector raised his sword as he prepared to deliver the coup de grace, but then he realised that Achilles was not making a move to attack him at all. Achilles gripped Hectors arm tightly, and with what little strength he had left, squeezed it, in a sign of warriors respect. Hector was taken aback by this gesture of praise, but after a moment of thought, reached out with his own free hand and gripped Achilles limp right arm at his side in a similar gesture.**

**Honour satisfied Achilles fell back on the ground, his breath now ragged and harsh. He turned his head to the left away from the walls of the city, seeming to look out at the sea, and beyond that to Greece, and to Phita and home. With that the fallen warrior coughed up blood three times, his eyes rolled back, and then his body relaxed, as the last breath gently flowed from his lips. Achilles, son of Peleus, the man rumoured to be immortal, was dead.**

**Hector rose to his feet satisfied that the Greek was well and truly dead. He looked down at the surprisingly tranquil face of Achilles, still staring out across the plain to the sea. Hector knelt down again briefly to gently close the Greek's eyes and then rose back to his full height.**

**Hector wondered now what to do. With the battle of the beach over, after seeing Achilles features taunting him as he surveyed the murdered priest's. Hector had promised himself that his that beast ever fall to his spear, he would hang his body from the battlements of Troy for all to see. But he realised now that he could not. Achilles for all his faults, was worthy of a honourable burial, and Hector was far too noble to do anything but.**

**Gathering Achilles fallen weapons and their various fragments, he loaded them in to Achilles chariot that still waited nearby. Then Hector stooped down and picked up the body of his foe over his shoulder. By this time the gates had opened, and a number of soldiers led by Paris were coming to tend him and help him with his burdens. Hector waved them off, shooting a look at his brother saying "I must do this alone", seeing this Paris stepped back. Hector carried Achilles corpse to his chariot and place him in it securely. Placing his helmet on his head and his shield on his arm Hector stepped back to survey the body. If not for the gaping wound in the chest, any might think the Greek was asleep. Hector was relieved that this was the case; the body should be treated with honour, the gods demanded it.**

**Hector then slapped the horses rear's and sent then into a steady trot back to the Greek camp. Hector was sure a decent burial could be held there.**

**Turning back to the gate's, Hector's exhaustion suddenly ambushed him again. Staggering, he was engulfed by the swarm of his awe struck warriors, with his brother lending his weight to support him, and clearing a path through the soldiers to the city.**

**As Hector came through the gate's and they closed after him. The first in the immense crowd of Trojan's waiting to congratulate him was his father. Wiping away tears of joy, Priam embraced his son and didn't realise him until, he finished his prayer of thanks to Apollo and Ares for watching over his son. Hector then turned around and was meet with the sight of his wife Andromache and his son in her arms. Using the last of his strength, he ran forward and folded them into his arms. **


	4. War Council

Chapter 4

"Achilles is dead, Achilles is dead"

The cry went up across the whole Greek camp at first whispered from one to another , but now the news was declared to the entire army that lay encamped on the Trojan beach. Even now, hours after the news had become public knowledge, men still refused to believe it. How could they, Achilles was their champion, their hero, he was the son of an immortal goddess, he could not be killed. And yet their body was, still on his chariot, as it had been when it had driven past the ships and tents to his Myrmidon camp from Troy.

Eudorus and the rest of the Myrmidons were tending to the body now. He had seen how Achilles had fallen; the body showed a number a bruises and grazes. There were two minor wounds, one on the torso in a small gash, and a deep slice through the heel of the left foot. The wound that had taken Achilles life was a stab clean through his heart and out his back.

Eudorus worked cleaning the blood away himself. He seemed composed and together, but on the inside he was working in a daze. He knew how deadly Hector was, he had seen him cut down soldiers like harvest wheat. Even Myrmidons had fallen with ease to his blade, but when Achilles left that morning Eudorus had never contemplated that possibility that he might be beaten in a fair fight. He was worried the Trojan's might simply launch thousands of arrows at him, which was why he had wanted to accompany Achilles that morning. But to think that Hector might kill Achilles in a one on one fight seemed disloyal in a way.

As he worked he was aware of two things. One was the sobbing of Briseis in Achilles tent. He felt sympathy for the girl; she must have known that whoever won that fateful duel, she would lose someone she loved, either her lover or her cousin. The other presence was Odysseus who stood just behind him, looking at the body, his head bowed as if in mourning. Eudorus turned his attention back to his work, and trying to keep his composure.

Odysseus was mourning, but not just for Achilles, he was mourning for the entire Greek war effort. Despite what Agamemnon would often rant to his council, Achilles was...had been, the driving force in their army, the glue that held it all together. Without him, Odysseus could not see a way that the Greeks could keep fighting this war.

"Lord Odysseus sir" Turning around Odysseus saw a herald kneeling before him. "What is it you want?" Odysseus asked expectantly, but he had a pretty good idea what this message was about. "King Agamemnon summons's you to a council of war in his personal tent" the herald said and thus proved Odysseus right. "Very well I am on my way, you can go now", bowing the Herald moved away.

Odysseus started walking to the command tent...slowly. He was in no rush to get there, he loathed Agamemnon when he was in a good mood, but when he was in a fit of anger or stubbornness Odysseus had caught himself repeatedly wishing that Zeus would strike him down. And while Odysseus reproached himself for that on every occasion, he couldn't help it. He was sure Agamemnon would be in a rage that would put Ares to shame. He might have despised Achilles personally, but he had recognised how the army needed him if they were to win the war. He was sure to be feeling murderous, and Odysseus had no desire to be their while he kicked and screamed at the world around him.

Stepping through the canvas, Odysseus was met with a sight that left him briefly wondering if he could tell the future. Agamemnon was striding up and down the floor of his throne room ranting and screaming. After a few seconds Odysseus realised that he was making terrible curses. He called the gods to strike Hector dead, to infect Paris with some terrible sickness, to let Achilles spirit burn in Tartarus for all eternity for failing him. He was even cursing the gods themselves, calling them backstabbers and praying Mount Olympus would crumble to dust and be cast into the wind.

After a few moments, Agamemnon seemed to realise his display was now public to his fellow kings and managed to compose himself and sit back down on his throne. Nestor stepped forward, "Sire me must plan Achilles funeral soon or his spirit is in danger of losing its self if Charon doesn't take him across the river Styx". Agamemnon eyes flashed "Why should we hold a hero's funeral for a selfish punk who disobeys my orders, endangers the army and then goes and gets himself killed in a pointless endeavour? His Myrmidons can see to it themselves".

Odysseus might have agreed with Agamemnon's criticism of Achilles, but he knew that was not what made Agamemnon reluctant to hold a funeral. The reason he had even tolerated Achilles for so long was because the oracles prediction that Troy would never fall unless he fought for the Greeks. And now Achilles was dead, slain in front of the still standing walls of Troy. Agamemnon felt as though he had been cheated, or that Achilles had failed to live up to his destiny and so he must suffer for it.

Nestor rose again "Sire the army still admires Achilles, if he is denied a public funeral it could lead to mutiny, his death has made the men's moral lower than it ever has been" Agamemnon ground his teeth in frustration. But he knew Nestor was right, the army was deeply devoted to Achilles "Lowlife traitors, the lot of them" he thought savagely "being loyal to a arrogant young thug instead of their own king".

"Very well, a public funeral will be held at dusk tomorrow" he sighed "Now that is sorted, on to the important stuff" he raised himself up to his full height and looked at his council "what is our next plan of attack on the city?" He looked out expectantly waiting for calls to battle to punish the Trojan's. Instead nearly as a one, all his advisors looked down at their feet, some coughing or fidgeting. He was losing his very fragile patients now, "Well!"

Seeing no one else would bring the king back to reality Odysseus stepped forward. "Sire if you order the men to fight right now they will more likely run for the ships, Achilles gave them hope that they could break into Troy, but now they have all but lost hope for this war".

Agamemnon leaped to his feet (in a move surprisingly fast for a man of his bulk) and glared at the Ithacan king. "Are you suggesting that one low level soldier can hold this army together when all the kings of Greece and the King of Men himself cannot?"

Odysseus sighed; this was going to be a long afternoon. "My lord the men had hoped because they believed Achilles was invincible, that as long as he lives Troy would eventually fall to them and all her riches with it, as was predicted years ago. Now he is dead, the men believe that the prophesy has failed and so the gods have decreed Troy cannot fall. I am sure you will agree, that it is one thing to fight other men, it is another to fight the will of the gods themselves."

Agamemnon flew back into his previous rage, calling curses on those who doughted his ability to lead them to victory. Odysseus felt close to despair, at this rate hit would be a miracle if any Greek men were alive at the end of this war.


	5. Life and Death

Chapter 5

Just like after the first assault on the walls of Troy, Agamemnon suspected that the Trojan's would be celebrating that night. He could see in his mind, the Trojan's dancing and singing and burning an efergy of him in the city centre, while Priam, Hector and Paris standing by laughing as the flames crackled. Unlike almost every prediction he had in his military campaigns, this time......... he was completely correct.

The entire city of Troy was alive all through the night as the Trojan people rejoiced in the death of Achilles (a name that had frightened children and kept grown men from sleep for nearly ten years) and the safety of their crown prince, who they now hailed as the savour of their entire world. Hector sat in a place of honour in the centre of his family, his princely throne was situated on a raised platform overlooking the festivities.

On his left sat his father, even now, hours after the duel had ended, tears of joy still occasionally streamed from his eyes. He spent most of the night talking with the high priest Antenor. From what Hector could make out of the conversation, Priam was making arrangements that the whole city make sacrifices to the entire Olympian Pantheon tomorrow in thanks to the gods for favouring his son against Achilles. Hector mentally smiled and sighed at the same time.

While Hector had faith in the will and justice of the gods, he often felt his father made far too many of his decisions based on what the High Priest predicted was the will of the gods. When the war council had debated the choice of attacking the Greek camp Hector had argued against it on the grounds of rational military judgement. He had beseeched his father to listen to him in an entire speech before the council, but with one sentence the priest had deafened his father to his reasons. Instead he had placed his trust in bird signs and other random omens Antenor conjured up. And because of that a young boy had needlessly died and Achilles came baying for his blood.

Hector put those thoughts aside. Tonight was a night of joy, and he had always known beyond a shadow of a doubt that his father was a good and wise king, even if his faith occasionally blinded him to sense.

On his right was Paris's empty throne. Paris had all but lead the celebration that night. His joy at having his big brother back home safe gave him more energy than Hector had ever seen him show. Paris had started the night by telling all who listened how his godlike brother had slain the brute Achilles. Hector could tell Paris was embellishing the truth slightly, the way Paris was telling it Hector had moved with the skill of Ares, and Achilles had fallen to his knees and begged for mercy within five sweeps of Hector's sword.

Hector had tried multiple times to set Paris right in his story telling, but he had given up after a while. It was like trying to stop Narcissus from looking at himself in the water.

Now Paris was on the central square dancing the night way with Helen in his arms. The couple were ecstatic that night, both from Hector's victory but also from their confidence that without Achilles, the Greek would turn tail and run. Or better yet that they would mutiny against Agamemnon and the Greek's would hand him over to the Trojan's. And with that, the war would be over and they could be left in peace to enjoy the rest of their lives together.

Helen moved with a fluid grace on the dance floor, he ringing laughter resounding back to Hector. Paris couldn't stop smiling, but he kept looking back to Hector every ten minutes or so. As if to make sure his brother was truly alive and well, and the whole night was not some illusion his grief stricken mind had made to shield him from the truth. Hector raised his goblet to his brother, his familiar smile on his face; satisfied Paris turned his attention back to his wife.

Hector looked at his wife Andromache, she was sitting down past Paris's throne, He wished he could be with her, but for the moment only the main royal family sat on the podium. Besides that morning he had thought that he wouldn't see his wife and son again until they also crossed the river Styx, he had figured that would be years, he could wait a few more hours.

**The Greek Camp **

Meanwhile the atmosphere in the Greek encampment was as far away from the Trojan party as it was possible to get. A tall wooden podium had been erected on the same spot that Patroclus's had been situated only a few days ago. Odysseus climbed up the wooden ladders that went to the top of the podium which consisted of a small straw covered platform, with something wrapped in sheets on top of it.

The Greek Army gathered around the structure in a circle. Present in the circle were the normal soldiers, in a place of honour the Myrmidons stood closer to the pyre, heads bowed and in full battle gear. The Kings of Greece also stood in a position of pride. Triopyus, Nestor, Idomeneus, Lycomedes and Diomedes had already paid their final respects to the fallen champion. Agamemnon was just finishing giving his. When the Greek priest Calchas told the King he had to make an appearance at Achilles funeral he had almost struck him to the floor.

It was no secret that if Agamemnon had his way, Achilles body would have been fed to the hunting dogs, and they could have his bones to chew on as far as he was concerned. But while he may be naive and vainglorious Agamemnon was not a fool. No king survives long on his throne without knowing when rebellion is a very real threat, and the tension in the air around the Greek camp these days was so thick you would swear you could taste it.

Odysseus finished ascending the ladder and surveyed Achilles body. The corpse workers had very little to do with the body, aside from treating the chest wound to stop the blood; they had a clean corpse already for funeral rites. Odysseus silently thanked Hector for his kind treatment to the body, he doubted that had Achilles won the fight he would have been nearly so merciful, and he was confident Hector knew this too. By returning the body anyway Hector had once again proven his nobility and charisma to the Ithacan king.

Calchas had already given Achilles last rites, without them, Hermes God of messenger's and guides wouldn't be able to guide Achilles spirit to the underworld.

Odysseus now placed two coins on Achilles eyes; this was essential, without the coins Charon wouldn't take Achilles spirit across the river Styx so he could be judged by Hades and (hopefully) sent to Elysium the afterlife of all great heroes. If Achilles soul didn't cross the river then it would be condemned to wander the earth for all eternity as a lost soul. The longer lost souls stay that way, the less of their life they can remember, they forget what life was like, and who their loved ones were and what they did. They even forgot who they were in life, and with that they are truly lost forever with no hope of regaining what they have lost. And in the end they are nothing but broken shadows of what they once were. Trapped to be forever ignored, by their fellow man and the gods themselves. Some men claim that death is the ultimate sorrow, "The fools" Odysseus thought bitterly.

Taking the torch in his hand he turned to look into Achilles face one final time. "Find peace, my brother". Odysseus would have liked to say more, but in the end he didn't know what else to say. But in the end he truly hoped that in death, after a life of nothing but war, Achilles would maybe at last find some small measure of peace. He deserved that much.

Casting those thoughts aside, he lowered the flame to the pitch soaked straw, and lit the pyre.

Climbing of the structure, Odysseus returned to his place among the other kings. As he walked past the soldier's he pasted Briseis in the crowd. He turned to look at her as he walked along the sand. What he saw caused him to do a double take; he stopped dead in his tracks and spun round completely to face her. She stared up at the quickly burning pyre as the body was being consumed with a terrible look in her eyes. He had never thought anyone could look like that; at least not anyone alive. Her eyes didn't look just sad; they were completely empty of life and hope, even soldiers he had seen dying in the dust, had not looked that lost.

Losing all thought of anything else, he walked up to Briseis; she started when he reached her. With good reason, with Achilles gone she had lost his protection and many of the soldiers still considered her as just a whore, worse she was a Trojan whore.

"Briseis please don't do this to yourself, Achilles wouldn't have wanted it, and you know that". Briseis turned around slowly and answered in a very strained whisper. "What else can I do?" she asked "My cousin killed my Lover; I know it wasn't his choice and I still love Hector but I don't think I can ever look at him again. And the man I love is dead, I am no longer a priestess, I am a traitor to my family and to Troy, My only hope for life was with Achilles. It died with his passing, better my life pass with it."

Odysseus grabbed Briseis's arm and dragged her away from the pyre, no one stopped them, and he doubted anyone cared what happened to her anyway. He led her to the water edge, sat her down in the surf and forced her head down to look at her reflection. He heard her breath catch in her throat as she saw her dead lifeless eyes in the water staring back at her; she raised her right hand to touch her face, as if she wanted to make sure it really was her reflection she was seeing.

"Do you think Achilles would want this, do you Briseis?" Odysseus demanded angrily. "He told me you always said he wasted his life on killing and death, are you so quick to forget your own lesson?" Briseis turned to reply but Odysseus silenced her with a gesture. "You must not do this to yourself Briseis." He said seriously "Achilles is dead and I am sad for him, but if you continue like this, I will be sadder for you, because you will be dead too, only inside!"

Odysseus had always been known for his wisdom and kindness, but now he didn't speak what he had learned from tutors or scrolls, he spoke directly from the heart. "You must fill your soul with something, if not love and joy then sadness, even hatred is better than nothing".

Briseis turned round and stood up defiantly "No, Achilles life was run by hatred and anger, mine won't be!" She stopped as she realised she had said his name for the first time since his death.

"Achilles" she whispered again as her eyes welled up with tears, "Achilles" she managed one final time before she through her arms around Odysseus and burst into tears. Odysseus held her all the while, for a long time until she cried herself to sleep in his arms. He set her down in Achilles tent and left her alone. He was confident Eudorus would look after her. He was glad to, with the emotions unleashed Briseis could start to recover and look once again look to the future. Smothering a yawn, he walked back to his own tent, he could use some rest, and they all could after a day like today.

**Troy**

Hector held his wife close to his chest as she slept, that night had been so wonderful, but it all paled at the moment when he had taken hold of his wife and son again, after saying what was meant to be goodbye that morning. He knew the war was not over yet; tomorrow he would put on his armour and see to the army. But for the moment, as he listened to his sons breathing in his crib at the foot of the bed. And feeling the warmth of his wife's body as she slept next to him, Hector allowed himself for once to forget his problems and responsibilities and enjoy the peace he had in his life.


	6. Battle Plans

Chapter 6

"The Greek army is weak and disorganised, its soldiers and kings tear at each other's flesh like mad dogs, I say that we do what we would do to any mad dog, we should put them all down!" Locas drew his sword on the last word and held it up so the sunlight flooding the throne room gleamed off it as if it had been blessed with divine power.

At these words the room erupted with cheers and applauding at the notion and promises to descend on the Greek invaders without mercy and push them into the sea to face Poseidon's tender mercies began to make themselves known.

Priam listened to all these words for a length of time, and then he raised his hand in a gesture of silence. At first no one noticed and carried on their own private debates on the subject.

"Silence" Locas bellowed

At this every stopped talking and sat instantly down. Locas was always Priam's voice of authority in council debates, the ageing king's vocal chords lacked the power they once had possessed. Priam turned to Antenor the High Priest. Hector (as always sitting next to his father) briefly closed his eyes and sighed in frustration.

"High Priest, what do the gods say?" Priam asked with an air of curiosity

Antenor rose to his feet and turned to face the king. "I have taken the omen's my lord, the gods favour shines over Troy these days". He began pacing up and down the council chamber, addressing everyone in the room as he spoke. "

You all have seen how the gods show their favour, Zeus and Ares gave our prince the power to slay Achilles, and you saw how Apollo granted us a great victory when they came against our walls. And now the gods on high send many sign's to me that victory is to be ours, we need only seize it." With that he resumed his proper seat.

This little speech cause much stirring among the nobles of Troy as many felt inclined to obey the gods, or at least what the priest said of the gods.

Priam considered things for a moment. Then he turned to Hector on his left side.

"Hector my son, what say you?"

Hector was slightly surprised by this; normally his father asked him then the priest and followed Antenor's decision. But then, since he had killed Achilles Priam seemed to be spending as much times with his sons as possible, as if he never wanted to think about losing them again. Regardless Hector was not going to waste this opportunity.

Hector rose from his throne and paced up and down the front of the chamber, as he did so he considered what he thought was the best strategy for them to follow.

The main reason he had spoken against the attack on the Greek camp before was his worry that Achilles and the Myrmidon's would return to the battle and unite the Greek's under their cause, but now Achilles was dead and that was no longer an issue.

"I agree with Locas," Hector stated in his commander's voice, a voice that made fleeing men turn around and charge head first at the enemy, a voice that sent his enemies cowering in fear. "Our scout's and spies have reported that the Greek army is battered and broken. They mutter about their leader's foolishness in fighting this war. If Agamemnon fails one more time at protecting his subjects then the Greek's will descend into anarchy.

The councillors were listening in awe to this. They had always deeply respected the prince but with his defeat of Achilles they revered him as a kind of Demi-God.

At this Paris rose to speak as well, this surprised nearly everyone in the room. After Paris had run from Menelaus he had attended council meetings as was his duty, but as if in shame he had remained silent on all matters, feeling as if he had no right to decide things that effected braver men. Now however he rose to speak to the council.

"I do not pretend to match my brother, either in combat or tactics, but I have the largest network of spies in the Greek army and cities. I have heard that riots and calls of anger are heard in the Greek camp more and more every day. If we can once more show Agamemnon's incompetence to his men, they will increase further."

"Soon Agamemnon will be forced to install martial law on not only the soldiers, but his fellow kings. The Greeks will then be under their own military occupation."

"Most distasteful, they will rebel"

Paris started pacing up and down using hand gestures to make his point. "I say let them fight each other or supremacy and get weak, while we watch and remain strong and united, and when they are finished killing each other, we swoop in and mop up the survivors"

"We can destroy the entire geek army and we will hardly have to lift a sword to do it, and after that, with its army and kings dead or prisoner's, all of Greece is at our mercy, peace negotiations will make Troy more powerful than ever!"

The entire council burst into thunderous applause as Paris finished his speech.

Hector walked up to his brother smiling and clapped him on the shoulder in a sign on both pride and brotherly love. "My brother does himself an injustice when he says he is not my equal in strategy, if anything he is my superior; this strikes me as a cunning plan"

Paris glowed with pride when he heard that.

Priam stood up and so all the councillors stood up to.

Priam turned to look at all the nobles and his sons in turn.

"I have heard the word of the priests and I have heard the wisdom of my sons. It is my decision that shall not allow the Greeks time to recover from the latest blow we have given them.

In two days we shall attack the Greek camp once again, but this time we shall attack from both land and sea!"


	7. Author's note

Author's Note

**I am currently travelling around the world for my Gap year.**

**I do not know how often I can update the story. I will try whenever I can.**

**If not, when I return in June I will carry one and finish it then.**

**Sorry for the delay.**

**Best regards.**


	8. Unrest and Rebellion

**Chapter 8**

**I managed to get my hands on a computer that actually had the means to update my story, so here is an update and sorry for the delay. I will try to update again soon, but if not then I am going home soon anyway**

Agamemnon, High King of all the Greeks sat morosely on his wooden throne in his command tent that also doubled as his ship. To the untrained eye, he appeared too sitting as if in meditation, such was his silence and unmoving posture.

This however was as far from the truth as it was possible to be. For in the Greek High King's mind, act's of destruction were being played out. In his mind he saw himself standing in the centre of Troy, all around him the city burned while his men cut down Trojan men and boys in the street's without mercy.

Screams of the woman as their husbands, sons, brother's, and father's were slaughtered filled his eyes, as greatly as if it was truly real. He could swear he could smell the smoke and ash as the flames engulfed the city. Flames that seemed to have sprung from the depth's of Hades himself.

Before him, and kneeling at his feet where the frail broken forms of Priam, Hector, and Paris. In his hand he held a whip an……

"No, that's not enough!" Agamemnon muttered as he temporarily snapped out of his fantasy.

The whip turned into a long length of spiked chain. With a slight cackle he turned his attention back to the three figured before him, listening as the begged for mercy, relishing in it. He lifted the chain above his head and brought it down with savage force.

Agamemnon laughed as he played the scene out, as he had done before. It was the only thing that made him laugh these days. But in the end they faded an left him more angry then before.

Because, even though he could destroy Troy a thousand times over in his imagination, the reality, as reality tends to be, was proving far more difficult. His fellow kings had turned into cowards and his army of Greek warriors that he had led across the Aegean, had turned into moaning old women.

All of his advisors when asked their thought's on battle told him only to open negotiation's for peace. How dare they.

"HOW DARE THEY!!!" Agamemnon screamed at the space in front of him and threw the vase (that Nestor had given him for the victory at the beach) across the room. It shattered on the wooden ground.

At that moment (speak of the Typhon) Nestor came into the room.

He surveyed the remains' of his gift to the High King, and his lips grew tight. That urn had been his father's and his father's before him to symbolize his families glorious past. And in one move Agamemnon had destroyed it in one of the moods that he had roughly a hundred times a day.

He dismissed the thought, and turned to the High King. Agamemnon turned to his most trusted ally and advisor.

"Well speak out man, you still have a tongue don't you, or did the Trojan's make off with it in the night as they have clearly done to your manhood?"

Nestor bit his lip and said nothing. Since the silence of the war council, all of the Greek leaders had to face Agamemnon's accusation's of cowardice. The King of Men seemed too blind or too stupid to recognize fact's in his face, unless they agreed with his own opinion's.

"For give me my lord, but the Malian leader Thegiesis is causing unrest in the camp….. again"

Agamemnon cursed under his breath. Thegiesis while not a king was leader of a noticeable part of the Greek army. He had made his distain for Agamemnon's rule and command clear many times. A he was not a king, he was not bound by rules of nobility and decorum. However his faction made it impossible for Agamemnon to punish him for his actions of insubordination.

Agamemnon rose to his feet and gathered his guards around him, snarling he drew his sword.

"I have tolerated that Malian sheep ****** for long enough, let's go sort him out!!"

Not ten minutes later, Agamemnon, Nestor and a number of Mycenaean soldiers were at the edge of the throng of soldier's listing to Thegiesis. The man himself stood on a large square like raise platform above the crowd. As Agamemnon's procession moved through the crowd, he caught sight of the King and pointed to him.

"O look men of Greece, the _High and Mighty King of Men_ is hear to lend his voice to the debate. Let's see what plan he has concocted to defeat Troy. Maybe he his going to have us all break our head's charging at the wall." He Sneered.

Thegiesis paused his speech and considered.

"Actually that might work, if the king does that as well. His head is so hard and thick that it would do the work of any battering ram"

The supporter's of Thegiesis howled with laughter and even those few who still supported Agamemnon snickered behind their hands.

Odysseus watching from the slope of the beach, saw Agamemnon's face turn so red that he was sure the High King was going to bust an artery. He didn't know where this would go, but he did know it wouldn't be anywhere good.  
Agamemnon was not a man of words. But Thegiesis was a skilled debater and public speaker with a shrewd mind. In a battle of words he would grind Agamemnon into the dirt, and Agamemnon was not known for his gracefulness in defeat.

Agamemnon was shacking in rage, but managed to compose himself enough to reply as he stepped up to join Thegiesis on the platform. "I have been successful in every one of my campaign's in life, and you should trust me when I say we will win this war and Troy's wealth will be ours!" Agamemnon raised his sword on that word and expected to her the cheers of his inspired men. Instead the men began to mutter and fidget, or just stand in silence.

Thegiesis on the other hand, did seem to take light of Agamemnon's speech, he smiled and began clapping his hands.

"O dear Gods of Olympus" Odysseus pleaded in quiet resignation. He saw what would happen so vividly it would be worthy of a future predicting seer.

"O my King please forgive my doubt in your abilities, I didn't know you had a strategy to win this war for us. I promise I will never doubt you leadership again." Thegiesis said with convincing praise and bowed deeply to the High King.

Agamemnon stood firm and smiled at what he took as a sincere complement and pledge of loyalty.

Then Thegiesis rose and regarded the king expectantly.

"Perhaps your majesty will share with us, what is your plan to win this war, what great masterstroke will get us through Troy's armies, Her god built walls, and most importantly it's crown prince Hector himself!"

At the mention of Hector's name the Greek army almost to a man, made a sign to ward of the evil eye. They feared Hector on a similar level to Hades himself.

Agamemnon was caught completely off guard, he realized he had been led into a trap and was now faced to answer it. "We will assault Troy again, and we will do so with such vigor and courage that we will beat the Trojan's back into their precious wall's. Then we will break their supplies and then when they are weak with starvation we will smash down their gates!"

Thegiesis threw back his head and laughed, his laughter was so great he fell to his knee's and clutched his sides. At the sight of their comrade openly mocking the King other's began to join in.

Agamemnon looked around at his laughing soldier's with a look of rage on his face such as Odysseus had never seen.

Suddenly Thegiesis laughter died as if it had never been, he stood up and looked at the king with completely undisguised contempt on his face.

"After all the men we have lost, after all the misery of this war, I would have thought even you would come to realize the error of our battles. But it is clear that you are still the same blundering fool who knows only how to destroy. You have about as much foresight as a blind and deaf man."

Agamemnon drew his sword, he was shacking in rage and foam was starting to appear at the corner's of his mouth. H e gripped his sword so tightly that the knuckles turned white. No one had ever dared speak to him like this.

But Thegiesis wouldn't be deterred. "I have heard that you promised Zeus that you would smash Troy's walls to the ground, and that you didn't care if it cost you forty thousand Greeks!'

At this, the soldier's began to yell out in angry and indignation, this was news to them.

"Well it may surprise you to learn, _O King of Men_ (Thegiesis spat with withering scorn) that us common men have enough pride to stand up to you before it comes to that."

"GUARDS!" Agamemnon screamed the words to the heavens more then to any of the enormous crowed that had formed through all this. "Guards seize this man and have his executed at dawn tomorrow, he has spoke of rebellion and I want everyone to see the price for defining me"

Six Mycenaean soldier sprang forward and took hold of Thegiesis. At this a fight started in the crowd, as his Malians battled the Mycenaean's to save their leader. Agamemnon turned and walked to the end of the platform.

Thegiesis spat at Agamemnon's retreating form as he struggled with his captors, catching him on the back of his head and launched a final tirade of insult's and defiance.

"By your hand Agamemnon, have you sent thousands of men needlessly to Hades, you never cared for Helen or your brother's honor. You care only for you greed and ambition. And by you hand many more will follow me to the land of the shades, you pathetic coward.

Agamemnon had stopped in his tracks when the spit hit him and had his back still facing Thegiesis.

"You're not fit to lead Greece, your a fool, an incompetent fool, A butcher disguised as a king, a beast in man's clothing"

His last words, he screamed to the entire host and maybe to the gods themselves. "Damn you Agamemnon, and damn the whore who sprung you."

With a yell of the purest fury Agamemnon turned and slashed his sword across Thegiesis throat. Blood spurted, catching the king across the face. Thegiesis seemed to freeze in that moment. Then he fell to the side and came crashing to the sand at the bottom of the platform.

Silence reigned for a moment. Then all bloody Tartarus broke loose, as civil war broke out among the Greek army. Agamemnon left order's for any who fought or resisted to be cut down before he left for his tent. Surrounded by Guards against any vengeful Malians.

Odysseus had watched and still watched this from his viewpoint on the hill. As he watched the battle continue he knew the King's men would win the battle against the vastly outnumbered rebels. But he knew it didn't matter who won in the end. Because now the Greeks were truly divided and against a unified and stable Trojan army, He knew one thing very clear.

They had no chance.


	9. Call to Arms

Chapter 9

Prince Paris rose once again to speak at the council meeting of Troy; he had just come from a five hour long negotiation with the emissary of the Thracian King Polymenstor. Ploymenstor was the husband of one of his many sisters, given in a gesture of alliance between Troy and Thrace. Personally the Trojan royal family didn't trust the Thracian Princeling anymore then a desert viper, but the alliance had secured the northern Aegean for the Trojan alliance and had ensure new trading network to the resources past the Danube. And now it looked to have another use.

"I have confirmed from Agomedes the Thracian diplomat from the king that our talks have been concluded, and they have been successful."

The Trojan nobles breathed a collective sigh of relieve at those words. None had any drought in Paris's skills in diplomacy, but the Thracian King was notoriously unreliable. Since the outbreak of the war he had many times promised to send aid to Troy, and on every occasion he had found an excuse to keep his army, and more importantly he fleet at home. It seemed this time, the treaty had bore fruit. None of the Trojan's lied to themselves on the explanations Polymenstor fed them. He had not aided them because he felt Troy would fall and if he showed Agamemnon what a good little servant he could be, and then he would be given a place in the Greek ruled Aegean.

And all of them understood, that the only reason he honoured his word now was because he understood that Troy had it within its power to reduce Agamemnon's war machine to ash. And if victory was attained, he could tell about how he had 'stood by his friends in their times of need'. Paris hoped that when Hector became King he would banish Polymenstor to some hovel in the Scythian plains, his treachours nature called for nothing less.

But neither the less, he had fleet of well over two hundred ships in his harbours. And with messages from Priam being sent all over, not just Ilium, but the entire eastern half of Asia Minor, that number was growing. The Phygians, the Samonians, the Bithynian's, Ionians, Hittites, and the Thracians. By order of Priam the many allies of Troy were ordered to combine and unite.

And there were already reports of fleets putting to sea and armies on the march. Freed from the threat of Achilles and the rumours of Agamemnon's invincibility, all the kings and leaders of the east were coming to the defence of Troy with one shared purpose. To stop the east from falling under the rule of the Greeks, by sending Agamemnon and all who follow him into the abyss. And that was something that the Trojan people from the King to the lowest slave, were only too willing to accomplish.

Paris continued with his explanation "We have reports from both Polymenstor's officials and our own people in Byzantium that the fleet will be at full strength in three days and sailing to Troy in five if the gods are with us." Paris like any other man, had faith in the will of the Gods. But he had doubts as to the justice of the Gods. History showed that the Gods very rarely supported those with a noble cause or grievance. And when they did, their act often involved many innocents suffering. He recalled the tragedy of Medusa, a beautiful and devout priestess of Athena. Poseidon took it upon himself to rape her in Athena's temple. Medusa cried to the goddess she had served all her life for comfort, Angered that such an acted occurred in her temple Athena took revenge, but on Medusa. She turned her into a monster and banished her to a remote island until her death at the hand of Perseus. As seen with the sacrifice of Iphigenia at Aulis at the start of this war, the Gods were quick take their own justice, but they seemed to care little, if at all for that of man.

He often wondered if things might have been better under the rule of the Titans. After all Prometheus created man and taught them about the world, and gave them sacred fire. And Cronos the father of Zeus had ruled in the golden age of man.

Paris dismissed those thoughts, they were not in his power or his concerns right now, and turned back to the issue at hand. He turned to his brother, as commander of the Trojan army he needed to coordinate the attack. Hector rose up from his stool and regarded the council, while Paris resumed his seat on his father's other side.

Hector in his Battle armour looked the part of a city's hero; after all he had been likened to a demi-god in the past few weeks. But he didn't concern himself with that; he simply laid out his plan. "When the Eastern fleet arrives at our shores we must be ready to work in perfect synchronisation with them. While we once again march on the Greek camp, they will deploy their ships out on the ocean behind the beached Greek fleet."

"Our latest scouts confirm that the Greek forces are a step away from complete anarchy. Already Agamemnon has killed a fellow Greek leader right in front of his men, his own men are now under guard and deprived of what little freedom's they had to start with. Agamemnon his cursed thousands of times a day, by his common soldier's, his own Mycenaean's and if our scouts are accurate, his fellow Kings as well." He continued "When we attack in formation and in fortitude, the Greeks will look to the interests of themselves and their own faction over the Greek cause. Then the fleet will cut off their escape and ensure that they are trapped between our blades or the hulls of their ships."

At this Paris rose to add his opinion and Hector stepped to the side for his brother to speak out.

"This is a wise and profitable plan. Agamemnon being the coward that he is will surely order the ships with plunder in them to put out to sea before he considers the ramifications. His men will see their king taking to the ships and they will panic and fall into chaos. It will be a simple matter to win the battle from then on."

The council rose and applauded the Prince and his strategy; they were ready and committed to driving the Greeks off their land once and for all.

Priam rose to conclude the meeting.

"We know what the situation is, and we know what must be done. Send out our fastest riders, and our best ships are to be put to the sea. We will send messages and calls across the entire Aegean; we will make it known to all the worlds in existence!"

"That Troy will not fall, that will not let it fall. In the days to come, we will face the Greek army one last time. This will be the final battle, every man, every weapon; every resource is to be used. In a few days such a battle will be fought that will be as great and decisive as was the Titanomarchy. And just as it was back then, the same rules apply.

"Them or Us, All or Nothing."

Hector rose to put the final touches on what his father started "Soon we will face the Greek Army, their numbers are still greater than ours, they have more weapons to use and they are better supplied from the sea. But we now know that the Greek soldier fights because he is ordered too. We fight to keep what is ours. Agamemnon fights solely with fear, and greed. But when we engage on the field of battle it will be in the sure and certain knowledge that bravery and love will bring us victory. Cowardice and Hesitation will bring us nothing but defeat and certain death

WE FIGHT FOR LIFE

(Cheers)

WE FIGHT FOR TROY!

As one, the Trojan priests and politicians, the soldiers and generals, the royals and the servants. Raised their fists to the ceiling and shouted as loud as the Gods would allow

"FOR TROY!"


	10. The End Game

Chapter 10

The horizon was brightening slowly on the Aegean Sea that morning, from the sand dunes overlooking the Greek camp King Odysseus of Ithaca looked out over what remained of the Army of a united Greece. The camp was silent with the exception of the fires that burned on the sentries lookouts. Odysseus knew that he should be asleep right now, in war you needed to be constantly alert. He had seen so many good and competent soldiers cut down due in his life due to lack of awareness, and sleep was a luxury you needed to savour, every second of it. But after hours of trying he had given up and taken over a sentry's duty. As a King, he was raised above such work, but he felt better for it, as if he was giving another small contribution to the war effort. If not for Greece, then instead for Ithaca.

Since the death of Achilles and later Thegiesis, the Greek army had descended into anarchy. Agamemnon's name was cursed hundreds of times in a single day, his officer's and enforcers were pelted with foul words and remains of food when they marched through the camp, and Kings of Greece removed themselves from Agamemnon more and more so. Agamemnon was under the impression that they were seeing to their duties of war, in reality they hoped that if Agamemnon was defeated they would not be included in the consequences.

Agamemnon was of course in a murderous mood. He was spending half his time in a drunken stupor (probably to escape the realities of the world). And the other half making plans on how to defeat Troy, each one more insane then the last. Odysseus was on the verge of something that his honour forbids...rebellion!

It would be child's play to lead the soldiers into rebellion against Agamemnon. The soldiers of Mycenae only made up about an eighth of the army, and even they were sick to death of their king and his ambitions. It would be fair to say that any loyalist force Agamemnon managed to raise would be sorely outnumbered, and defiantly lacking in moral. With Agamemnon defeated (And this Odysseus didn't think about, he didn't trust himself with what he would do with Agamemnon if he were in his power), the war would be over. And then Troy would be left in peace, the Greeks could go home and more importantly Odysseus could return to Ithaca, Penelope, and Telemachus.

The vision was in his head, taunting him like a demon, attacking his temptation with all its strength. "The men want it; you want it, all you have to do his take command. You will save thousands of innocent lives, an innocent city, and remove a murdering fiend from a power he cannot be trusted with. And then return home to watch your family grow. And who knows what's possible after that?"

"If you lead the revolt against Agamemnon, then you could be the next High King of Greece, Telemachus would one day rule an empire, and Ithaca would be more powerful than ever before! Your destiny is within your reach, all you have to do is seize it" the voice said in a seductive silk voice.

The temptation that Odysseus felt now was insufferable, it was like throwing a slice of roast meat in front of a starving man. His hand gripped on the handle of his sword so tightly the knuckles turned white. His blood was beating in his ears and perspiration began to appear on his forehead as he fought his desires with his reason and honour.

"If I betrayed Agamemnon now, then I would forfeit my honour for the rest of my life, the Gods of Olympus would curse my name and house, for they despise traitors above all else, and I would likely spend eternity in Tartarus for that, no matter how compassionately I rule the people under my care."

"Besides if I leave Telemachus with all of Greece he might one day seek to invade Troy and the east, and nothing will have changed."

"No, no." Odysseus repeated gently as his hand slowly moved away from his sword and back to his side. "I will find away to save the men and return home but if the fates decree that I die here, then I will accept it, and go to the underworld with a clear conscience. As for Agamemnon, well, what awaits him in death is common knowledge, what awaits him in the next few weeks, is another matter."

Turning away from the sand rise and watched the sea as the horizon continued to turn from black to purple/blue as the dawn came closer. The sun of Helios was a marvel, even when it wasn't in the sky yet. The sea was already starting to light up with the coming of day.

Suddenly a sight caught his eagle eye; something was on the sea, at the point where the sky and water met. Squinting he took another look at it, slowly it took shape on the sea, it was a ship...a ship of war. Odysseus was puzzled, they were not expecting resupply from Greece at this time, the food and provisions they had would last them well into next spring. And even then it would be easy to forage around the plains and woodland. A ship from Greece made no sense.

And it couldn't be Trojan, before the fleet had sailed over with the army aboard; the Greeks had fought the Trojan navy for domination of the Aegean. It had taken many months, but eventually they had smashed Priam's fleet and opened the way to Ilium. The Trojan's hadn't had the time to build a new fleet, and since the Greek army landed they had to focus every resource to defending the city.

A private ship would know better than to come here and for pirates to come here would be suicide. Every man of every nation on earth hated pirates; here they would be killed on sight by either Trojan or Greek.

Suddenly a second ship appeared alongside the first, and then a third, and a fourth. Odysseus was starting to feel uneasy. The arrival of one ship was a cause for concern, but the arrival of a fleet the size of the one now heading for the beach was possibly dire. Already the ships were numbering well over four hundred strong and they were converging steadily on the beach that held the Greek Fleet and camp

And now he heard another sound, most people wouldn't notice it, but the King of Ithaca always had supreme hearing. The steady sound of armoured men moving forward, it was getting louder and he then realised that whatever was happening, the camp was in danger. Thinking quickly he signalled to one of the sentry herald to sound the alarm, though he needn't have bothered, the guy was already blasting out the warning as loud as he could. And already the Greek soldiers were being roused from their sleep, donning their armour and grapping their weapons as fast as they could.

Odysseus ran down to his tent and started to rally his personal guard and get his armour on before it was too late. It was almost like time had turned itself around and returned to the day Hector had attacked the camp, the day that Patroclus had died. The Greek army formed into lines of battle and faced the crest of the hill. While they could see no enemy forces yet, the sound of a marching army was clearly distinct now. Meanwhile the garrison guard of the beached ships had been tripled at the sight of the still approaching enemy fleet. There was no doubt in Odysseus mind that the opposing fleet was the enemy. The attack had been perfectly executed, a two pronged assault from both land and sea. The Greeks had never even conceived of an attack from sea, and so had no preparations for the defence of the fleet.

And now the Greek forces were completely surrounded, the formidable Trojan army (which had now come into view) in front. Or the enemy fleet behind, Odysseus saw now another part in the enemy plans. The enemy fleet was not barring the way out to sea, it was still clearly possible to all that the Greek ships could escape out to the Aegean and to home. Some might be thinking that was insane, but Odysseus saw the logic behind it. Any army which knows it must 'win or die' will fight all the harder, it will fight with the strength of men who want to live. But if the Greeks thought they had a chance to escape, they would be more likely to rout.

It was never a good idea to debate life and death, life would always win in the end.

Odysseus saw Hector's hand in this strategy, its foresight and execution had all been flawless. He looked at the enemy army as it came closer. He looked to see if they seemed tired or fatigued, did they look downcast or discontent, were their weapons ill kept? Odysseus saw nothing to encourage him; it was as always the finest army in the east, if not the world. Plus the resolve and the confidence he could now see on the Trojan troops was almost sublime. They knew that led by Prince Hector, the slayer of Achilles, the favourite of the Gods, they could not lose.

At the heralds trumpet Agamemnon marched to the front of the army in full battle gear, with the rest of the kings of Greece in tow. He stopped and stared with an expression of the purist fury, at the Trojan army then the Trojan fleet and back again, his mouth kept opening and shutting like fish out of water. He couldn't fathom what had happened as well as Odysseus had, as far as he could work out, the Trojan's had conjured a entire fleet out of thin air. He felt as if all the forces in the cosmos were united in preventing his victory. The walls of Troy, the death of his brother, Ajax and Achilles the vengefulness of the Gods. And now this, this complete unfairness of his situation, it was enough to drive his to the depths of madness, (and later many figured that in that moment, it had).

He whispered an order to his servant and turned back to the enemy; the servant looked surprised, but quickly ran off with two soldiers in tow.

Agamemnon could now see the two people he detested most in the world at the head of the enemy army. Hector, the stubborn bastard who had opposed him all this war. The one who had killed his brother, and then killed his champion Achilles. And undoubtedly the one who had planned all this.

And beside him, also in battle armour was Paris. The treacherous rat that had started this war in the first place. He then hid behind his big brother when he lost a challenge of his own calling. Then he ran back behind Troy's walls during the battle. The one who had shamed the house of Atreus before all the people of the world, and then run away.

From their view Hector and Paris stood at the centre head of their army, they looked out over the swarming Greek forces still trying to get into true battle order. As Hector had hoped their attack had been coordinated correctly and the Greek army was still in a fog of confusion from their rude awakening.

Hector glanced over at Paris who was also surveying the Greek army with a determined look on his face. Hector had told Paris that he wasn't obligated to come, that with the war almost over he must look to Helen. But Paris had been adamant; he said he would never be able to face his people again if he did fight for Troy in the war he started.

Hector strode forward a few paces from his now halted army. He made his last observation of the battle layout. The Trojan army effectively faced the Greek force, the Greek fleet was still anchored and immobile, and the Trojan allied fleet still kept to the plan of keeping the sea open for 'supposed' escape.

With that done he the power summoned his lungs and bellowed to Agamemnon, who he could see clearly. "Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, you have been defeated. You army has been smashed against the walls of Troy; your champions have met their deaths by Trojan blades. It is within the power of Troy to have you and all the kings and soldiers of Greece slaughtered. Do not delude yourself with hopes of victory or vengeance. Realise instead that I am being far more merciful then you would have been to us had our situations been resolved."

Hector paused allowing his words to sink in, and for fear to do its work. Then he continued.

"Surrender yourselves, your weapons, and your ships to us. Admit your defeat, and we shall spare your lives, and begin negotiation terms of surrender and peace between our lands."

"High King Agamemnon...what say you?"

Agamemnon stepped forward and faced Hector with a passive expression on his face. At the sight of this many Greek soldiers took hope from this, thinking that their king might finally see reason through his rage and hatred. However the sound of screaming and the sight of two soldiers dragging a girl to the Greek king turned that hope to dust.

Briseis was dragged kicking and screaming for all her worth but she silenced herself when she came face to face with Agamemnon. Agamemnon took hold of Briseis's bonds from the guards who let go very quickly and distanced themselves, not wanting to be a part of what this was going to turn into. Agamemnon held Briseis in a headlock and turned to face her cousins who were rooted to the spot in shock. They had assumed that Briseis was dead, that she had died when Apollo's temple had been sacked. But here she was alive and (aside from her current situation) well.

Agamemnon started to laugh manically and he looked positively mad now. The Greek army shifted uncomfortably, they had a better understanding of their king then the Trojans, and they were sure that whatever Agamemnon had planned, it couldn't be good.

"Prince Hector" Agamemnon yelled out while a trickle of foam started to run down the side of his mouth. "You have killed my soldiers, my brother, and dishonoured my father's house. You claim I am defeated, I will never accept surrender, and I don't care if every man, woman, and child of Greece must die, I will burn Troy to the ground if it's the last thing I do!

At this the Greek army started to yell out their anger and hatred toward their king. Some were actually turning their swords and spears away from the Trojan's and began aiming them toward him.

Hector was sickened and filled with contempt for the way the Greek king spoke of his people as if they were coins to be bartered away. "Then you are a complete fool among fools Agamemnon. But if you would rather journey to the underworld instead of home in peace, far be it for me refuse you. On the contrary, I will be happy to send you across the Styx myself!

Unfazed by this Agamemnon simply laughed again "Well I might be defeated Hector, but I don't intend to go alone! The blood of a son of Atreus is on your hands, so I will take the blood of Priam in vengeance!

And with that, before anyone could stop him, he drew a dagger from his belt and in a swift and savage motion, brought it across Briseis's throat.

Briseis was then flung to the side onto the sand as she clutched her neck as blood seeped through her hands and onto the sand and her dress. She tried to draw breath but she found that it was extremely difficult. Already the strength was flowing from her body, just as her blood was. She was already sliding into darkness and didn't even notice when Eudorus picked her up and took her back to the camp. The Greek lines parted as they moved past, none tried to stop them, the most any did was to make a sigh to ward off the evil eye. And a small prayer for the spirit of the girl, who undoubtedly would soon enter the chamber's of Hades.

Hector stood in silent shock at what had just happened, as did the entire Trojan army. No one yelled, no one spoke, everyone was just too surprised to utter a word. Even Agamemnon looked stunned, as though he had acted without thinking it through. Hector found he couldn't arrange his thought's, he had found his cousin long thought dead, and instead he had watched her die right before his eyes when he couldn't do anything to save her. He had seen comrades and family fall in battle before, but for it to happen to his beloved cousin, one who shouldn't even be in battle was almost too much.

Sadness and shock was soon replaced by anger, every fibre of his being was screaming for revenge against that dog, Agamemnon.

He raised his spear high and summoned his breath to order the Trojan army to descend on the Greeks without mercy. But suddenly he was pushed to the side, almost falling over, and when he looked, he gasped in fear.

Paris was marching down the slope, tearing off his helmet and tossing it away across the beach. Tears ran down his face, but his face was one of hatred. Hatred of Menelaus, of Agamemnon, but most of all himself. Because of him Briseis, his own dear cousin had or soon would join the countless dead of this war, the war he had started for his own selfish reasons. And he had never faced his punishment; so far he had hidden behind braver men like his brother to do his fighting for him. No more.

"AGAMEMNON, WE END THIS NOW, RIGHT HERE, TO THE DEATH!"


	11. A Battle Royale

Chapter 11

The entire battle field was silent as the sound of Paris's challenge still echoed in the air around them. Paris still stood firm and determined; the rage was burning in his soul at the act Agamemnon had just committed. Tears made clean streaks in his dust covered face, and his lips peeled back to bare his teeth, in a furious snarl. But Hector could see that he was also controlled in his emotions, he was using them to fuel is courage and strength, but he was not blinded by them.

Agamemnon stared at Paris for a moment, as did the rest of the Greek army. Then he burst out laughing at the Trojan Prince. Here was the same cowardly pub that had once already called a lawful challenge, and then fled like a coward. And now here he was again, demanding a fight, he had learned nothing since he was bested by Menelaus. "You dare to challenge me, Paris of Troy? And how will you fight this time? With sword in your hand, or tears in your eyes as you beg for mercy...again.

Some of the Greek army snickered quietly, but most just stared as the scene developed. The Trojan army just stared as well, they were offended by the insult to their prince, but they couldn't very well deny it had happened. All the men of Troy and Greece had been watching that day, when Paris had run for his life.

Paris bristled at that, but like his soldier's he could not deny what Agamemnon had said. He shook it off and summoned his fury and hatred to him again. He felt his fear leave him again, the dark but powerful emotions ran through his entire body, filling it with strength and resolve. He faced the High King of Greece again with contempt etched n his face. "You seem to delight in causing pain Agamemnon, and you treat life like a disposable commodity. You destroy homes, you take the lives and freedom of innocent peace loving people, you even take the lives of children!" Paris paused as he looked at the drying pool of blood that Briseis had shed in her final moments. "And all to satisfy your own need for power and glory" he glared at Agamemnon with his dark eyes "Well now it's your turn!"

Agamemnon laughed again at Paris's declaration "Oh really? And I suppose the great and powerful Paris of Troy is going to defeat that which has never been defeated" he said with withering sarcasm. "Maybe not, but I can try." Paris lifted his spear and made his way down the slope to Agamemnon, who in turn raised his spear point and marched to face Paris on a level part of the beach.

"You Paris should have the first spear throw." Agamemnon said in a voice that was normal but had a sinister edge to it."We should draw lots, it is the proper custom." Paris replied in a calm voice he was not afraid, not this time. He would do this and accept whatever the gods decreed, whether he would find favour with Ares or with Hades.

Agamemnon shook his head "No, take it." And with that Agamemnon readied himself behind his shield. His body was fat but still powerfully built, and his arms had their fair share of muscle.

Paris raised his spear and held it balanced in his fist as he and Agamemnon circled each other. Paris hurled his spear at Agamemnon hoping to drive it through his head. But Agamemnon caught the spear on the side of his shield and knocked aside with undisguised ease. Agamemnon then cast his spear at Paris. Paris raised his shield just in time; the spear point hit his shield and crashed its way through. The spear embedded itself in the shield with the point stopping just a few inches from Paris's face.

Paris was shaken for a second before he tried to pull the spear out of his shield. It proved useless, the spear would not move. Paris snarled in frustration as he cast away his now useless shield across the sand and drew his sword form its scabbard. Agamemnon smirked and tossed away his shield too. He drew his sword and admired it for a brief moment. "At the swords already are we Paris?" when Paris made no reply he continued "Funny, I didn't think we would make it this far!"

As he finished the last word charged at Paris with fire in his eyes. Paris caught his sword on his own and turned the strike aside. He then countered with an attack of his own; he swung his sword in an arc, aiming to decapitate the Greek king. Agamemnon blocked the blade and thrust his forward to pierce the Trojan's heart. Paris dodged the blow and his sword arced out to gut the Greek. The fight continued for a time with neither side gaining an advantage over the other. Then Agamemnon stumbled backwards a few steps and then lunged again and just as Paris did the same.

Their swords clashed and grated together in a shower of sparks, but neither one could force the other back upon its holder. Agamemnon made to punch Paris in the face with his free hand, but Paris grabbed his incoming fist and held it in a vice like grip. The two royals forced all their strength into their arms as they tried to force the other back, their faces only inches apart.

Agamemnon gnashed his teeth in rage in rage when he saw the Prince wouldn't go down without a fight. "You lowlife Trojan, how dare you oppose me!" He snarled in voice of hatred and shaking with the strain the struggle was putting him through. He pushed even harder and slowly he began to force Paris back as his sword inched closer to his throat. Paris fought with all he had, but he was simply not as strong or experienced as Agamemnon was. Agamemnon saw this and pressed his advantage forcing Paris on to one knee.

Agamemnon smiled as victory drew closer. "When I am done with you I will burn Troy to the ground and make your father and brother watch before I behead them!" He was trying to force the images into Paris's mind to make him lose hope. And it was working; Paris could see it all play out before him in his mind's eye. "And then I will introduce myself to your mother, Andromache, and especially Helen. They will spend the rest of their lives as my concubines in Mycenae! And at night, they can sleep in the soldier's barracks, but I don't think they will get much sleep!" he finished laughing manically.

Paris's eyes had been closed through this tirade as he tried to block out the images and words that flowed in his mind. Now his eyes snapped open and looked at Agamemnon with lightning flashing in their irises.

"You...ANIMAL!"

Paris forced himself to his feet once again as his words echoed across the battlefield he brought the knee that had been on the ground moments ago crashing into Agamemnon's stomach. Agamemnon was wearing his armour but the sheer force of the kick sent his lungs wheezing as his stomach stretched and caused him to cough up various fluids.

As Agamemnon stumbled back wheezing and gasping for breath, Paris let go of his enemies hand, clenched his own into a fist and sent it smashing into the side of Agamemnon's face. The force of the blow knocked the king down and blood started flowing from a broken nose, Paris was sure it also broke a couple of fingers in his hand. While Agamemnon struggled to get up Paris raised his sword over his head and brought it chopping down on the Geek.

But Agamemnon managed to roll to the left as the sword cut down into the sand where he had been a second ago. He quickly rolled to his feet and before Paris could pull his sword out of the sand, he slashed at Paris's side with his blade. Paris yelled in pain as a deep and long gash penetrated his armour and crossed his side stomach. Blood immediately splattered down his armour and on to the sand. He was half blinded by pain but he was able to bring his arm guard up in time to deflect Agamemnon's intended killer blow.

With that done and his sword hand free, he slashed at Agamemnon's leg, catching him on the upper thigh and leaving a gash similar to the one Menelaus had given him in their duel. Agamemnon roared in both pain and frustration. Without stopping to thing he tackled Paris to the ground as both their swords fell forgotten to the ground. Paris was taken completely by surprise, before he could even defend himself Agamemnon's fists slammed repeatedly into his face and his open wound. He yelled in pain and struggled to his feet, just in time to defend himself against Agamemnon's next flurry of attacks. This duel had now become a royal fist fight.

Agamemnon hit Paris under the chin in a fierce uppercut which sent his jaw snapping shut, and Paris was thrown to the ground. In a flash of anger and desperation Paris hooked his foot behind Agamemnon's leg and pulled him to his knees. This gave Paris the time to send his foot into Agamemnon's face. Agamemnon yelled out as his already broken nose was damaged further, his right eye was bleeding profusely, and his lip was split. But it didn't slow him down. He brought his foot up and slammed it down on Paris's leg as he still lay on the ground.

Paris cried out as his leg was either broken or cracked, either way it didn't matter, his left leg was now out of use. Half blinded by pain Paris tired to get up but only made it to his knees. Paris knew couldn't go on much longer, he was weak from blood lose and dazed with pain. Now he could only could only just stand up, but hardly move.

He looked back up at Agamemnon; the Greek king was a mess. His face was covered in his own blood; his nose was bent in a horrible angle. And he was limping heavily from his injured leg, where bloods still ran from. But it was clear that while Agamemnon was injured and weak, he still had a lot of fight in him. This was proved when Agamemnon reached down and seized Paris by his armour. He lifted him off the ground and above his head and with a scream of rage; he threw him ten feet away across the sand, where he landed in a crumpled heap.

Hector watched all this from the slope with the ranks of the still watching Trojan army; it was all he could do not to tell the archers to fire at Agamemnon. Before they had left Troy Paris had made Hector swear to Zeus that he would not interfere with a challenge again. But Hector didn't see any hope for his brother. He wished that Paris had listened to him and stayed at Troy, or had not made the challenge. But now all he could do was watch and pray to all the Olympians that they would save his brother.

Another one who was watching the fight with similar feelings was Odysseus. He saw that Paris had drained all of his strength and energy. Agamemnon was hurt, and hurt badly, but he was still able to give a lot of fight. It seemed that this was the end for Paris, he fought a brave battle, but now it looked like the handsome Trojan Prince's life was in the hands of the ruthless tyrant. He sensed that Paris too knew that his struggle was hopeless. Odysseus bowed his head in silent respect to the boy prince.

Meanwhile Agamemnon had retrieved his sword and was limping to where Paris lay on the ground. Paris was swimming in and out of consciousness, he was fighting hard to get up and keep fighting, but the loss of so much of his blood had made his limbs useless to what his mind wanted. He was only dimly aware that Agamemnon now stood above him. Through the blood on his face Agamemnon smiled an evil smile. He brought his uninjured leg back and kicked Paris as hard as he could in the side, rolling him onto his back.

Paris groaned in agony and went into a coughing spasm; blood spurted from his mouth as he retched. The Prince was beaten; he was unable to move, barely able to see, he was so exhausted that he couldn't even speak properly.

"My my, what do we have here? A fallen prince, oh dear." Said a cold and gleeful voice

Agamemnon stood over Paris as the Greek and Trojan armies watched in silent awe. Hector was fighting a battle of his own. The honour he had always lived by told him not to interfere in a duel before the gods. The big brother part of him told him to screw his honour and save his little brother, who he had always protected.

Paris coughed a few times but otherwise laid still, his blood staining the sand around him.

Agamemnon regarded his enemy. "It pleases me to see you reduced to this Paris." He chuckled then he turned serious "I don't know why, but I will honour you enough to put you out of your misery. Don't worry though, your family, your friends, your entire kingdom will follow you soon enough."

He reached down with his free hand and grabbed Paris's shoulder strap. He then raised him up so Paris was half sitting up. Paris's eyes cleared and focused on his enemy, he looked at Agamemnon with hate in his eyes and with his last bit of strength, he spat in his face.

Agamemnon didn't react to that, he simply wiped it of his face and then raised his sword to point at Paris's heart.

"Goodnight sweet prince"


	12. The Victor & the Vanquished

Chapter 12

Agamemnon raised his sword high, the handle at his shoulder and the blade aimed directly at Paris's heart. Paris's eyes followed the path of the blade and looked as the sun light flashed off the hardened bronze weapon. Time seemed to slow as he watched Agamemnon ready himself to deliver the killing stroke. He knew that he could call for help; he knew if he did Hector would save him like he always had done, ever since they were children. Every time during childhood or training or in the heat of any battle, when Paris was in danger or hurt Hector would always appear to rescue him, even if it risked his own life.

But this time Paris didn't call to his brother, nor did he want to. Hector had always been there for him. But he had already done too much for him. For most of his life when he caused trouble from his mistakes, whether it was stealing a horse or starting the largest war ever, he had always run to Hector to solve them. But not this time, this time he would accept his mistake and all the consequences it brought.

But even if it was a mistake, he had not regretted for a moment, not even now. He loved Helen far more than his own life and if the price of being married to her (even for a short time) was his life, it was a price he would pay. He did have some regrets of course. He wished so many had not had to die for his actions on both sides, even Achilles.

And he wished with all his heart that Briseis was still alive, she should never had been brought into this conflict. He knew he would see her again soon, he wondered if he would see Elysium, he was dying a warriors death so maybe he would be blessed with the ultimate reward, but he had also betrayed a man's friendship, started a war, and stolen that same man's wife. So perhaps he should just hope that the judges of the dead didn't condemn him to Tartarus. Or maybe he should not risk it and just go to the fields of Asphodel and spend eternity there. He didn't relish the idea but it was definitely better than Tartarus.

He hoped that his family would not mourn him too much, His father was a strong man like he always had been and he was sure Hector would be the greatest king Troy had ever had. He knew Hector would lead Troy to greatness and prosperity, and Astyanax would live up to his father's name. He was just sorry he wouldn't see it, but he hoped that Astyanax would occasionally remember he once had an uncle, who loved him dearly. And Helen, well no matter what, he would be waiting for her.

"Goodnight sweet prince"

Paris was snapped back to the present as he watched Agamemnon tense his arm as he prepared to stab down on his opponent. That sight rejuvenated him, his loss of blood and exhaustion left him in no shape to stand and fight. But he would not just lie here and wait for death; he was not going to die like a helpless child. He was going to die fighting, like Hector would have.

Agamemnon smiled and yelled out for all the assembled warriors to hear. "It's over Prince Paris of Troy. By my power as the King of Men, I sentence you to OBLIVION!"

He brought the sword rushing down determined to run the prince through. But was stunned to see Paris bring his arm guards up to cross his chest and deflect the blade away. Agamemnon was surprised but he recovered and stabbed down again. Paris simply reached out and grabbed the blade with both of his hands and held it fast. If the strike possessed the force the last one had, it would have cut through his hands like parchment. As it was he was able to stop the blade, even though his palms were being cut to ribbons.

Agamemnon moved his hand from the handle to the top of the hilt and began pushing down with all his might down on the sword, determined to bring it into the prince's chest. Paris used all his remaining strength to hold back the blade; blood ran down his hands as the sword struggled in his closed fists. Paris clenched his teeth in pain and perspiration was breaking on Agamemnon's face with the effort of the struggle. But slowly the blade was coming down; it was obvious to everyone watching that sooner or later Agamemnon would bring the sword down on the Trojan.

The struggle Hector felt now was indescribable. One side said that the Gods would curse him and Troy if he defied their will. The other side said that the gods could do whatever they wanted to him; he needed to save his brother. Sweat was running down his face and his was biting his lip so hard it bled.

Agamemnon gnashed his teeth in rage as the struggle continued but as he saw he was winning it turned into a smirk "These are your last moment's boy, so try to make them count."

Paris couldn't yell back as he would have wanted, he was using all of his energy to hold back the sword. But he just managed to face Agamemnon and softly hiss "Fuck you"

Odysseus was watching the fight with a mesmerized expression on his face as he watched the once thought cowardly prince of Troy fight for his life and remain resolute. Even in the face of death were many brave men crack. Paris was not only accepting it, he was welcoming it, if he could go trying to take Agamemnon with him.

Paris's mind was flashing with images, his father, brother, mother, Helen, all of Troy. Agamemnon had caused so much harm to them already. And he could completely destroy them if he won this day. He saw Tecton, Lysander, Pollox, and Briseis all dead at Agamemnon's hand. "He hurt them" Paris mentally whispered. "HE HURT THEM!" With a yell Paris pushed the blade back with anger coursing through him. Agamemnon was surprized but responded and thrust back down on the sword again. He was practically leaning on it now adding his body weight to the force behind it. Black fire raged in his eyes.

Paris was now yelling in agony. His entire arms were covered in blood from his hands; his muscles were on fire as he worked them like never before. He felt himself sinking into the sand as his body was driven in by the force behind the sword.

Agamemnon was laughing as the sword tip was almost at Paris's chest and the princes last bits of strength were about to give out. "No chance, you have NO CHANCE!"

Unable to bear it any longer Hector drew his sword and charged down the hill. Paris was not just his brother, he was his best friend. Without him being their while growing up Hector would never have become the man he was today. And he would not stand here and watch him die. But even as he ran he saw it was too late Agamemnon would kill Paris long before Hector reached him. There was nothing he could do; there was nothing anyone could do.

Agamemnon smiled evilly as the end approached. Suddenly something flashed just outside his field of vision. Paris noticed it too; he looked just in time to so see a streak of silver flash past over him. The next thing he saw led him to question his sanity. An arrow flew past and embedded itself in Agamemnon' shoulder. Agamemnon roared in surprise and pain as he looked incredulously to were the arrow had been fired from. As did everyone in the Greek and Trojan armies, as did every single person on the beach.

Standing with his famous bow still raised to fire, was Odysseus, King of Ithaca.

"Odysseus?" Agamemnon said too surprised even to be angry yet.

Hector couldn't believe it either but he quickly yelled "Paris, now's your chance!"

Paris snapped to attention and realised that Agamemnon had let the sword handle go when he had been hit by the arrow. Paris let go of the blade and turned the sword around to grab the handle. There with the tip now pointing at Agamemnon's completely unguarded chest he propelled himself up with his stomach muscles and brought the sword like a spear straight through Agamemnon's straight into the place where his heart should have been.

Agamemnon froze in place as he looked at the handle of his own sword that was now sticking out of his chest. He looked back at Paris with an almost serine expression on his face. Then he fell back and landed with a thud on the sand. Paris struggled to get up but only succeeded when Hector came up alongside him and helped him up. Odysseus was also walking toward them with his bow still in his hand. His expression was sad but remained resolute.

The Princes embraced each other as the waited for the king to reach them. When he did they all looked down at Agamemnon. The King of men still lived if only for a few more moments. Paris looked at Odysseus, knowing full well that he owed this one time enemy his life, but he didn't know why.

He held out his hand to the Ithacan. Odysseus looked at it for a moment and then took it with his own in a gesture of respect. "I thank you Odysseus of Ithaca, you saved my life but I do not understand why?" Paris remarked. Odysseus was silent for a moment then shook his head. Looking the Prince in the eyes he said earnestly "Now Paris of Troy, it is I who must thank you. The actions you showed in that duel taught me something. Something that Achilles once tried to tell me. You showed me that, I would rather be a free man in my grave then live as his puppet, or his slave."

The three royals all looked down at Agamemnon once more. The Greek tyrant was fading fast, his eyes kept moving to Hector, Paris to Odysseus and back again. As blood flowed from his mouth he raised his hand to them as if he was trying to strangle them. Then his eyes rolled back and his head and arm fell back to the ground.

Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, Son of Atrieus, Brother of Menelaus, the supposed King of Men was dead.


	13. Author's Update

**Author's Note**

**To all readers, forgive me for my long silence and lack of updates. These past few months have been my first at University.**

**I have been busy at my assignments and making new friends and have found no time to continue writing my fanfictions.**

**That being said, I will update Sons of Troy very soon and I hope the next chapter will live up to expectations.**

**Yours Sincerely**

**Trojan Prince. **


	14. War and Peace

Chapter 13

Paris stared down at the lifeless corpse of Agamemnon. The tyrants face still bore the hate filled snarl that he had directed at his enemies before the life left him. The sight of the lifeless eyes should perhaps have given him satisfaction, if not relief that Troy's greatest enemy was no more. But looking at the frozen hatred preserved in death, Paris felt only an unnerving sense of foreboding. It was as if even Hades himself could not bring an end to Agamemnon's hate and desire for vengeance. As though Agamemnon's evil had manifested itself past the body of the man that had given it birth.

Paris felt a sudden wave of disgust for this thing that called itself a man, much less a king. He sucked up what little saliva he had left in his exhausted, dry mouth, as he prepared to spit on Agamemnon's corpse.

However as he was about to let it out along with all the contempt he still held for the man. The back of Hector's open hand smacked suddenly over his lips. The soft but firm blow caused Paris to swallow and start to cough as he fought to get his breath and surprise under control. When he got himself composed he looked at his older brother. Hector was frowning down at him, as Paris caught his eye, Hector started to slowly shake his head in warning. Paris understood the message; you do not dishonour the dead, even if they were your enemies. The dead are for Hades to judge, and no one else. Paris nodded slowly feeling slightly ashamed of himself.

Odysseus had had not left the scene either. He was unsure of how the gods or his fellow Greeks would react to what he had done. He had killed their king. Granted it was a king that many to all of them had despised with a passion, but he had committed treason against the Greek nations. Always the clever one, Odysseus was already devising the possibility of bring Ithaca into an Alliance with Troy. Such a partnership would certainly keep vengeful eyes away from his kingdom. With that in mind, and always one for formality, Odysseus got his plan to work.

The Greek king lowered his bow and returned it to its casing on his back, and then he drew his sword. Only to have Hector's sword at his throat before his had completely left its scabbard. With one hand still on the hilt, he raised his other hand to be level with his face, with its palm open and facing the fierce Trojan royal.

Hector was grateful to Odysseus for his actions, both in putting down Agamemnon, and in saving Paris. But he was still an enemy until declared otherwise. Hector was not about to take his eyes off him, especially given his cunning reputation. So when the Greek moved for his sword, Hector sprang like a cobra. Having his blade tip aimed at the king's throat before Paris could even register the motion. Odysseus smiled a warm smile and slowly, very slowly began to continue taking his sword out of his scabbard. Hector made not move to stop him, but his eyes followed every detail of the weapons movement.

When the sword was completely free Odysseus held it up for all to see. It was the royal blade of Ithaca, an image of Odysseus's patron Athena was shown on the handle. While the grip and casing displayed two dolphins. A dolphin being the symbol of Ithaca, just as the horse was for Troy.

Odysseus admired the weapon for a second longer, and then he turned it round in his hand and held out the handle to the watching Paris, while Hector kept guard. Paris stared at the sword, completely dumbfounded. He had never been in this position before and had no clue as to what was going on in the Greeks head.

"Paris, son of Priam, Prince of Troy." Odysseus began in a voice loud enough for the assembled Greek and Trojan forces to hear. "I Odysseus, King of Ithaca, herby offer this sword as a request of peace between our two great kingdoms. We have all fought this bloody for ten long miserable years. We have been unable to watch our families and countries grow and flourish as we would have in peace. Instead we have watched our countrymen; our friends, our fathers and brothers die in the thousands. We have fought and killed each other to the point that the Hellespont runs red with our blood, instead of blue with Poseidon's ocean."

Both armies were listening intently as Odysseus let out all the feeling of suffering and loss that each and every one of them had been forced to repress for the last decade. They turned to look at each other and themselves as the king spoke. Each wondering what they had gained for all their suffering and sacrifice. The answer for both sides was unanimous…not a lot.

Odysseus continued.

"Can anyone remember why this war began? I can quite clearly. For the return of a dead man's wife, and for the ambition of a dead fool is what we fight for. What other reasons were we given? To punish our arrogant neighbours, to secure a Greek empire in Asia Minor, to continue Trojan control of the Hellespont and Aegean, are any of these worth it? In fact is any reason enough to justify the terrible slaughter we have reeked on each other? I put that question to anyone!"

His words rang out across the plains. No man answered him. Whether it was they truly couldn't give an answer. Or they were simply awe struck into silence, it is not known.

Odysseus was going with the skill of Apollo now.

"We misunderstand each other, we mistrust, and we see each other as demons. So we kill each other and continue until one of us is destroyed. As we have done for the last ten years, and I say enough! We have both done horrible things to each other, but this has to end sometime. And I would rather see it end with both people still alive, Princes of Troy; will you help me achieve this? Will you make peace?

Odysseus's final question rang out across the plain as both sides turned their gazes to Hector and Paris. Hector was for once unsure of what to do. He felt confident that he could crush the Greek army on the beach before him. It would allow Troy to take complete revenge for all the years of siege they had endured. And them Greece could propose terms of surrender instead of terms of peace. But Hector wanted as many Trojans as possible to return to see their families again.

The decision was taken out of his hands as Paris walked forward and clasped Odysseus's forearm in a gesture of friendship and respect. The whole plain watching as he did so, Paris took the sword and in exchange offered his own to the Greek. With that done, he said in a loud voice, Odysseus, Lord of Ithaca, Troy accepts Greece's offer of peace. Complete terms will have to be worked out between your diplomats, and those of my father King Priam.

With that Paris and Odysseus embraced as equals and men of peace and respect. And Odysseus gave Hector just enough time to lower his sword, before he did the same.

Odysseus turned to face the Greek army and gave them a signal. The soldiers saw it, and after a moment of hesitation and discussion, they lowered or holstered their weapons.

Hector then turned and repeated the motion to the Trojans, who also followed orders and lowered their weapons.

Paris was suddenly struck with a thought as forcibly as if it was one of Zeus's lightning bolts. And he took off running …..straight at the Greek lines. In the back of his mind he could hear Hector shouting at his brother get a grip on himself and come back. When that had no effect Hector charged after his brother, feeling certain that either blood loss or a demon of Hades had claimed his mind. Paris limped/jogged at the Greek lines, some of whom retrieved their weapons and lowered them at the oncoming prince. At the sight of that the Trojan troops quickly rearmed and began to move forward to support their prince. This caused the rest of the Greek army to ready for battle once again.

It seemed that all the carefully brokered peace agreements that Paris and Odysseus had agreed to, were about to turn to ash. The two opposing armies were once again moving menacingly toward one another, each daring the other side to make the first move. Some felt that the gods themselves were determined to end this war in bloodshed, no matter what the mortals did.

Hector was almost level with his brother, but they were almost at the Greek lines as well. Hector didn't know what was going on. All he could think about was the same question. "What is Paris doing?"


End file.
